Chapter 7 — The First
40 0 1
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

To his luck, the front door was, for whatever reason, unlocked, and all it took was an experimental twist of the doorknob to make the door swing open. It was rather confusing to Alleyn that Powell would leave his house without locking the door, as the house almost screamed wealth, inviting people to just waltz in and take whatever they wanted, although he rationalised that, since Trudid was small enough that just about everyone knew everyone, it would be rather foolish to try stealing from each other, since it would quickly be made apparent who had stolen what.

 

Alleyn, meanwhile, had the advantage of not being supposed to leave his own home, let alone get inside anyone else’s, so he didn’t expect anyone would even so much as think that he had been the one to do it.

 

Quickly stepping inside Powell’s house while silently closing the door behind him, Alleyn paused to let his eyes adjust to the shadowed inside; while the larger than ordinary windows let plenty of moonlight in, the spacious interior meant that there were places that even the full-moon couldn’t illuminate. A few tens of seconds of blinking and waiting were, thankfully, enough for Alleyn to adjust so that he could see well enough to begin exploring the house, although the majority of the finer details were still indistinguishable. 

 

But where should he start looking? Where would someone keep a pendant? The bedroom seemed like the most likely candidate, so Alleyn set out looking for just that. The house was made up of two floors: the first one contained a kitchen, dining room, and a small room obviously meant for more ‘private’ affairs. With nothing even remotely looking like a bedroom on the first floor, that left only the second floor. With this thought, Alleyn made his way up the stairs as he ran his hand along the rail, once more remarking on the ‘polished’ feel to the house; everything he’d touched so far felt smooth and well-made, without even a single wood-grain being out of place, a far cry from his decade long experience with splinter-inducing furniture.

 

Standing atop the stairs, Alleyn saw three doors placed parallel to the stairs, only separated by a guardrail and some flooring to allow one to traverse. He started with opening the door closest to the stairs and found himself in a room dimly lit by a small lamp of sorts, with a large basin, a drain, bathing utensils, and a large shiny metallic plate, leading him to believe that he had stumbled upon Powell’s bathroom, which was puzzling since it made little sense to have a bathroom on the second floor, since that would mean you had to walk all the way downstairs just to get water. Looking around, Alleyn saw a metal pipe with a handle in one corner of the room and, upon moving the handle, water came out of the pipe. He did not, however, see any way of actually heating the water, although Powell could just prefer cold baths to warm ones.

 

It didn’t take Alleyn many minutes to conclude that the pendant was unlikely to be inside this room since there was simply no place to store jewellery; no small boxes, no cupboards, no drawers. Just a single shelf that was filled up with various bottles and knives. Turning around, Alleyn saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. Turning, swiftly, towards the source, he calmed his erratic heart when he realised what it was: himself. He had spotted his own movements reflected in the large plate that was positioned up against one of the walls. It was a beautiful thing, this slab of metal, as it reflected the room to an almost impossible degree, including himself. 

 

Alleyn hadn’t ever seen his own reflection, at least not completely. He had only ever seen bits of himself reflected in water and such, and never in his entirety. Now that he had, he almost wished he hadn’t. He felt disheartened and shameful as he observed himself. His dark hair was unruly and cut unevenly, the result of his amateurish attempts at grooming it; his arms were scrawny and thin-looking as they poked out of the sleeves of a rough, brown tunic, entirely too big for his small frame. The pants he wore were almost more patches than the original fabric, and his thin leather shoes were mismatched and different in size; he had noticed this when he first got them, but it almost seemed like the boots weren’t actually a pair. Looking back up, Alleyn found his eyes, clear and determined. He didn’t want to continue to look like this, and he wouldn’t. He finally had a chance to become better than the boy that was simply locked away and forgotten by most. He could change.

 

And he would.

 

***

 

Alleyn opened the middle door with newfound determination and saw what he was looking for: the bedroom. Stepping inside, however, made it almost immediately apparent that the pendant wouldn’t be here. He saw two things: a bed that took up the vast majority of the available space, and a large wardrobe. Alleyn quickly ruled out the bed, especially since the bottom part of it seemed to be made from one solid block of wood, making it impossible for him to even look under it. That left the wardrobe which, upon looking inside of it, revealed to have nothing but clothes and a couple of pairs of boots. It made little sense to Alleyn; pendants and other jewellery could, technically, be classified as clothing, right? Wouldn’t it then make sense to put one’s jewellery with the rest of one’s clothes?

 

Feeling a slight twinge of desperation, Alleyn rummaged through the bedding, moving the blanket and pillows aside he found nothing but a few articles of clothing that wouldn’t suit a man; perhaps there was some merit to Gareth’s complaints, after all? Putting everything back as he found them, Alleyn was certain that, even if he didn’t find the pendant, at least Powell wouldn’t think anyone had been here, and so, with that done, he moved on to the last door.

 

This room was entirely different as, in addition to being very well lit and the largest of the three rooms, it felt the most enclosed. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with books of various colours, or other objects such as knives, staves, bottles, jars, and so on. In addition, there was a rather large desk pushed against the far wall and a single cushioned chair that looked way more comfortable than what he was used to and, on the table itself, Alleyn found yet more books. He likely would’ve felt tempted to look through them, if not for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make sense of even a single letter. All in all, the room made him feel hopeful that he would be able to complete his Quest.

 

Browsing through the shelves he found several items of interest, but no pendant. Making his way back to the desk, Alleyn once more found himself questioning the sanity of Powell as, despite the desk’s drawer obviously being able to be locked, he could just tug them open, revealing the insides; one single book, an ornate looking dagger, a metallic disc with an elaborate engraving, and a small wooden box. The book was useless to him, the dagger, while it certainly looked like it could sell for a small fortune, was also useless, the engravings on the disc told him nothing, leaving the small box.

 

Picking it up, Alleyn opened it, revealing two black cracked crystals, each attached to a thin, metallic, string. Just looking at them, Alleyn knew he’d found them: the Traveller’s Pendants. Curiously, however, there was no new panel telling him that he had completed the quest, although this could be due to him still being inside of Powell’s house, and therefore not technically having fully ‘reclaimed’ the pendants yet. Pocketing the pendants, Alleyn closed the box and put it back into the drawer. At this point, he couldn’t really do much more than hope that Powell didn’t have a habit of opening the box…

 

“The hell are you?!” his heart was suddenly in his throat, as he spun around with a jump and wide-eyes. Alleyn didn’t know the owner of the gruff voice coming from the doorway, considering where he was, it was obvious who it was. Powell stood there, blocking the door with his large frame. Looking into the man’s face, Alleyn saw what he believed to be the briefest look of realisation before it transitioned into fear, and then into wrath. He knew; Alleyn knew that Powell had recognised him. This was it; he was done. The worst-case scenario had happened. What could he do now? Nothing, right? There was nowhere to run, not with Powell standing in the doorway. Then what?

 

Breaking Alleyn out his thoughts, Powell didn’t seem intent on letting Alleyn think of something, as he drunkenly stomped his way towards Alleyn.

 

[Use the dagger,] a cold voice tore through his fear-clouded mind.

 

(“The dagger?”) Alleyn thought back, only now remembering the ornate dagger laying in the desk drawer, (“For what?!”)

 

He felt the leatherbound handle grasped tightly in his hand, then, in the next moment, he saw Powell’s widened eyes as the Overseer collapsed. He felt a warm liquid coating his hand and clothes. Alleyn had no idea ‘how’ he had done it, but he had. He had killed him; he had somehow managed to cut the man’s throat.

 

Blinking, Alleyn continued and failed to comprehend how he, in the panicked state he was in, managed to kill Powell. He hadn’t been actively trying to do it, either; instead, his body had moved completely on its own, somehow grabbing the dagger and swinging it at the charging man. Alleyn didn’t get long to think, however, as something happened on Powell’s quickly cooling body: a necklace he had worn on the outside of his clothes had lit up with an almost glaring red, before it cracked, releasing what loosely resembled an eye formed out of red mist. The eye spun once around the room before ultimately focusing on Alleyn and then, in the next second, it disappeared into thin air.

 

Despite Alleyn not understanding what had just happened, the event did give him the impression that he had been found out, and not just by the now-dead Powell. Since the eye had been released shortly after Powell fell, it didn’t take much of an imagination to think that it was some magical means of finding out who had killed whoever wore the necklace, and idea the man being a mage made seem infinitely more plausible. This did, however, mean that he couldn’t stay in Trudid. He had to run. But where to he didn’t know… 

 

—————————————————————————————————————

[Quest received: Fate’s Guidance II]

 

Objective: Make it to the city of Battsek alive.

 

Rewards: Minor increase in any one Skill or Racial Trait.

 

Failure Condition(s): Death.

 

Penalty: Death.

—————————————————————————————————————

1